by Matty Boy Anderson 05.11.09
Hi everybody. Remember the tsunami whinefest that resulted after Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull came out last May, even though Roger Ebert and I both loved it? Remember all the times over the past year that a writer at the AV Club inserted a go-to, mean-spirited jab at Indy 4 or George Lucas in a totally unrelated article, to the point where it appears like the pathetic, embarrassing obsession of a joyless wretch? Remember the non-stop hipster hate-on towards Lucas that's become default mode for seething jerks who live to latch onto anything resembling an actual opinion? Remember how many clowns acted like the one-joke Indy-rape episode of South Park was validation to go overboard with similarly ham-fisted hyperbole?
Boy, I sure do. In fact, it's on the very forefront of my mind as I write this review.
So. We all piss our pants and cry when we think that ONE THIRTEENTH OF AN INTERDIMENSIONAL TRAVELLER is actually an alien from the X-Files, but hey, it's okay for young James T. Kirk to meet old man Spock from an "ALTERNATE REALITY", who tells him that it's his "fate" to be buddies with young Spock and all the gang. Right? That's such a brilliant twist, and not at all desperate, sloppy retconning! Oh my goshes, the Original Series might be negated somehow if he was mean to his future crew! Or... would it? Which reality is which again? Do Trek fans even care?
The new, indisputably awesome Star Trek universe is brought to you by J.J. Abrams, the noted man of Scientology who wrote the screenplay for the beloved Michael Bay film Armageddon, as well as other popular movies and TV shows that get by on hype and audiences with preschool tastes in film. Hollywood adores Abrams for many reasons. For one, he's got the proper name construction: First name starts with a 'J' of course, last name has six letters, just like internet darlings Joss Whedon and Judd Apatow. This ensures slavish devotion in the form of young girls and closet gays who dream of being that friend against whom these utter genuises of the written word will bounce new ideas. OMG, can you imagine getting a call from Joss about his new show??? Squeee!!!!!
The second, and most important reason, is that Abrams is the cowed, Hollywood version of the brilliant writer. He writes mediocre scripts for movies that make bales of money, and he doesn't come with the mental complications that trouble the so-called "Real Artist". No no, Uncle Tom Abrams knows how to "game the system"! He makes his producers fat and happy! His talent with Mary Sue lead characters is without peer! Come on, blind loyalty from angsty teenage girls doesn't come cheap! It takes some real find-and-replace talentsoftware to swap gender roles in a screenplay. And kids idolize anything, so who'll notice?
Here's an excerpt from the new, TOTALLY X-TREME Abrams Star Trek. We've all grown up knowing William Shatner's Captain James T. Kirk as a swaggering, macho bad boy. It's part of pop culture DNA. So Abrams has the daunting task of illustrating this icon as a stripling. Hmm, how should we go about it? How about... he's recklessly driving an "old" car VROOOOOMMMMMMM! NO ONE CAN STOP HIM! NYYYYAOOOOWWW!!! OH WHAT A BAD BOY!!! VROOM VROOM HEY PULL OVER VROOOMMMMM!!! SCREW YOU HOVER-PIG!!!! I'M A YOUNG VERSION OF JAMES T. KIRK!!! WATCH THIS-- I'M GOING TO DRIVE THIS CAR OFF A CLIFF!!! RRRRAAAOOOOOWWWWWW KKKKSSHSSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!! LISTEN ALL YALL IT'S A SABOTAGE!!!!!
Does this introduction seem familiar, aside from the 300-year-old Beastie Boys song and Nokia logo? Gee, I personally have never seen a BAD BOY introduced in such a manner. Not since that shitty Fantastic Four movie, at least. Hey man- THIS IS NOT YOUR FATHER'S STAR TREK! OBVIOUSLY!!! RAAAAAOOOOWWWWW!!!! PEW PEW PEWWWWWWW!!!!!!
Lest we forget; we have to jazz up ol' bitter pill Mister Spock. Enduring literal decades of popularity is not enough; we gotta FLIP THA SCRIPT! (insert record-scratch noise here!) First of all, let's give him Rorschach's angry childhood memories from Watchmen. That's a good start, right? It's not really enough though, so let's DESTROY HIS HOME PLANET VULCAN. That way he can be both Spock AND Superman! What a coup! And here's the BEST part; everyone will be expecting Kirk and young hot Uhura to get busy, so let's REALLY fuck with their little Trekkie heads, and have Uhura mack all over SPOCK! What a TWISTY TWIST!
Sarcasm aside, I have a tip for Mr. Abrams here. If you have to actually glue the fingers of the actor playing Spock together just so he can make the Vulcan hand sign, maybe you SHOULDN'T BE MAKING A FUCKING STAR TREK MOVIE AT ALL.
Did anyone, alive or dead, EVER give a shit about why Dr. Leonard McCoy was nicknamed "Bones"? No. Why? Because we all assumed it was because he was the ship's DOCTOR, and they used to call doctors "sawbones". But hey, this is NOT YOUR FATHER'S STAR TREK! BACK THE FUCK UP, GRANDPAW! Get ready for an unnecessary explanation of this eternal mystery! McCoy lost everything in a nasty space divorce. She took him for the "whole damn planet"! All he has left to his name... is his BONES! Holy shit, aren't you glad I spoiled that for you? Isn't your Star Trek experience that much richer having known this essential factoid? Isn't this kind of writing worth every accolade it receives from wide-eyed imbeciles desperate to relive their bygone childhoods? Sure it is!
Since we're in the new, XTREEEEME, J. J. Abrams Star Trek, which takes place farther in the future than now, we get a nice glimpse of next-generation technology. Are you ready? It's... MINING! Who could have predicted that the forward march of computer processors and spacecraft would wind us back to the Industrial Revolution? J. J. ABRAMS, THAT'S WHO! Mining on Earth! Mining not on Earth! It's all so "futurey" that I don't know what to do with myself! Wow, drilling space rocks. That kind of fresh originality is why J. J. Abrams gets paid the big bucks. If only I could put my finger on why it seems so familiar...
But why bother with new ideas, when you can simply conjure a hackwork plot skeleton and hang fan-wank all over it to placate the lifelong Trekkies? Not only do we discover the essential backstory behind the name "Bones", but we learn Uhura's first name is "Nyota", after she and Spock practically knock space boots. Scott Bakula's beagle from the universally unloved show Enterprise gets a shout-out. Kirk eyeballs a salt shaker for a moment, in a bit that will go down like spoilt semen with the old-school Trek fans. Why take any chances and realistically flesh out characters, when you can get by with Star Trek trivia flash cards?
Let's recap. Uhura has the hots for Spock, who reciprocates. Kirk is such a BAD BOY that he drives a car off a cliff and fools around with a green-skinned woman (who else?). Spock's planet and mommy are sucked into a black hole or something. All Bones has left are his bones. Then Leonard Nimoy appears, obviously attached in an attempt to bring a micron of tradition to this fucking clown turd, and tells Kirk that he lives in an alternate universe, so all the Trekkies should just shut the fuck up. J. J. Abrams picks up a fat check and dodders off to be "candidly" snapped by TMZ, before getting back to work on one of his many important Untitled Projects. Legions of idiots proclaim "It's okay to love Star Trek again!!!"
No it isn't, you stupid asshole. But go ahead and celebrate the co-opting of your fan obsession just the same. As a Trekkie, this is probably as good as things will get for you. Personally, my sympathy for you and your franchise has long since evaporated. Maybe it was because of Next Generation, your pinnacle, with its endless hours of drowsy technobabble and curved corridors. Maybe it's because Star Trek's original classic run works better than NyQuil on me. Maybe it was the Vulcan with the bad boob job that Enterprise treated like the hottest tail in the galaxy, and not a rotten, rotten excuse of an actress.
Maybe it's because just about every single aspect of Star Trek is so boldly asinine that it's an effort not to ridicule it, but this still does nothing to dissuade Trekkies from thinking themselves "above" kiddie fare like Star Wars. For years, irony-deficient Trek fans have clucked their fat tongues over how utterly superior their Star-franchise is, and how anyone who says or thinks different is simply of lower intelligence. Invariably they do this while dressing for their nuptials, which will be performed entirely in Klingon or some other made-up TV language that will make them feel unique and special. Surprisingly, these marriages are usually man-woman, although the difference in genders is not immediately obvious to those in attendance. Trekkies are fat, you see. Morbidly obese. Science has not yet determined why, since Trekkies never appear to take the cocks out of their mouths long enough to consume food.
I'm sure I've offended some Trekkies with that last paragraph. Perhaps one or two will even wiggle their fat sausage fingers long enough over a keyboard to wheeze out an angry email. Probably about cookies or pies. To which I will retort, "But you're still fat", causing them to angrily pump out more exciting slash fiction about Spock and Uhura and their mulatto Vulcan offspring. It's the only comfortable way for you to deal with the crushing lameness of your devoted franchise. Make fun of the Star Wars prequels too, big guy, if it makes you feel better. Oh, that Jar Jar. So... stupid, and such.
In a couple of weeks, it will have been one whole year since Indy 4 came out. That is one entire year of pissing and moaning that I've had to listen to from its detractors. It won't be long until I've dealt with TEN ENTIRE FUCKING YEARS of listening to people bitch about the Star Wars prequels. I love the prequels. Why? Because I like Star Wars, and I'm not a loveless purist prick. I accept that movies use CGI now; I've had twenty years to get used to it. Maybe I would have complained about the CGI in Indy 4, if I honestly felt it looked fake or made the movie stick out badly. It did not. You wanna see fake-looking CGI? Then watch Star Trek ANYTHING. Indy 4 was utterly consistent with the series. If you disagree, you are wrong. You thought Indy 4 was the worst movie of 2008. You are wrong. Wrong: the opposite of right. You. Are. Wrong.
But now, you've got the honeyed first taste of that new Abrams Star Trek dick in your mouth, and I'm going to slap it clean out. Fuck you for liking it. Fuck Star Trek, and fuck you for being a Trekkie. Fuck every goddamn stupid Star Trek movie, past, present and future. Fuck Kirk, Picard, Archer, Sisko, Janeway, and the entire goddamn serving-spoon Enterprise. Fuck Sisko for wanting flying cars. Fuck the insipid prime directive, and fuck the Kobayashi Maru test. I exalted when William Shatner told you to get a life on Saturday Night Live. You're a living, walking joke, and all you'll ever be good for is a punchline. You embody all that is pathetic geek. Jay Leno bags on you, for fuck's sake. Also you are still fat.
Fuck Spock, the Vulcans, "live long and prosper", and the nerve pinch. Fuck your stupid cosplay "bridge uniform". Fuck the shitty-looking transporters and the ridiculous twinkly fairy-dust noise they make. Fuck Mr. Scott's Guide To The Enterprise, and its half-ass late eighties updates. Fuck your "Trekkies" quasi-documentary and how you feel it validates your little dress-up games. Fuck Gene Roddenberry and Majel Barrett's dead asses. Fuck the Tribbles, if you haven't done so already. Fuck the listless Star Trek Animated Series and its recycled Filmation "animation". Fuck the fold-out Next Generation DVD cases that include every goddamn stultifying episode. Fuck Geordi LaForge's hair-clip visor and cram it up your ass. Fuck Spock's pointy ears and eyebrows. Fuck the risible Turd Season with its kindergarten plots and not-special guest stars, like whalish attorney Melvin Belli. In a muu-muu.
Fuck the original piece of shit Star Trek movie from 1980, and all its outsized, misplaced grandiosity. Fuck Wrath Of Khan for being the last sequel you liked without question. Fuck that ugly bald Egyptian bitch from the first movie. Fuck whatever that stupid Vulcan combat scene is that gets referenced in every episode of Futurama. You know what, fuck Futurama, and all its cock-guzzling sycophantic Trek references. Fuck them for assuming that their entire audience is as fond of Trek as they are. Fuck anyone who claims that those references are "affectionate ribbing". Fuck Al Gore for being in an episode of Futurama with the original Trek cast, and fuck Gary Gygax in his dead role-playing rectum for the same reason. Fuck you for having seen those episodes more than five times apiece. Fuck you for quoting them in conversation. Fuck you for thinking it makes you the slightest bit interesting.
Fuck the Excelsior, and the Captain's Yacht. Fuck Data and his gold pancake makeup. Fuck Wil Wheaton and his role as Chief NAMBLA Bait On Board. Fuck Riker with or without his beard. Fuck his tacked-on romance with Troi, and fuck Troi, for being an annoying future hippie bitch. Fuck Troi's mother, who turns episodes into Garry Marshall docudramas. Fuck the Klingons, the Andorians, the Ferengi, the Romulans, and any other "alien" that translates into "actor with rubber shit glued on forehead". Fuck the Cardassians, and any other race that doubles as an Armenian surname. Fuck Guinan and Quark and Pook and all the other terrible space bartenders. Fuck every episode of Trek that plays up a romantic subplot, when not a single credited writer has ever even seen a living vagina. Fuck the torturous excuses for video games that bear the proud Star Trek moniker. Fuck Star Trek, period, for making the entire future starched and boring. And fuck you for liking it, pussy.
If you're an avowed Trek fan, I wouldn't piss in your mouth if your gums were ablaze. You celebrate something that I consider to be shit, so your opinion is meaningless to me. Drive off a cliff like Young Jim Kirk; just don't jump from the car beforehand. Sit on a nacelle and spin. Choke on a Tribble. Suck your own salt out. But most importantly, kill yourself. Your existence defines useless, and I'd spit in your face if I ever met you. Don't worry about this happening, however; I can see and smell you coming a mile away, and I avoid dull, bovine humans, particularly in Xtra large TV show costumes with shiny brooches.
So, in closing, I ask rhetorically; Am I being harsh? Is this all an overreaction to the unceasing repetition of anti-Lucas doggerel? Have I resorted to fighting fire with fire?
What if I told you that I haven't even seen the new Star Trek, and that I was merely ruining it out of spite? Oh, all the spoilers are real. Don't comfort yourself with the idea that I simply made up all that stupid shit. I did research. I don't give a fuck if I spoiled it for you. That was my intent. Why? Because I fucking felt like it. Just like you felt like being Queen Pissy Bitch every time a new Star Wars or Indiana Jones came out that didn't immediately meet every single one of your impossible, personal criteria. Did you see Indy 4, or did you just take South Park's word for it? You asked for this. Repeatedly. You deserve every goddamn ugly word of this article. You ruin my movie, I ruin yours.
Plus, you're still a fat Trekkie with a cock in his mouth. Chew on that, fuckhead.
-MBA
